


he is the lamb, she is the slaughter

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Snark and Banter, Vaginal Fingering, harry wakes up a girl oops, i don't know how to tag this appropriately, just MENTIONS i promise, mentions of louis/eleanor and harry/nick, my bad - Freeform, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Niall, what did you do to me?” Harry repeated, quieter, slower than normal, and he looked up at Niall from under his eyelashes.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Niall froze, reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, blinking rapidly as he stared at Harry. “What’s that?”</i>
</p><p> <i>“This?” he asked, gesturing towards his chest. “Oh, you know, just <b>breasts!</b>” he snapped, picking up the pillow and throwing it back at Niall. “What did you do to me?!”</i></p><p> </p><p>(Or: the one where Harry wakes up a girl and it's clearly NIall's fault.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	he is the lamb, she is the slaughter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cheerstar051](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheerstar051/gifts).



> okay, so i've never written something quite like this, and if i haven't tagged it appropriately, please let me know and i will make the adequate changes. basically a harry-wakes-up-a-girl-au and repressed feelings are ~revealed~ so. in the interest of creative freedom, i took a few liberties, but i hope you like it! sorry if it's not exactly what you were looking/hoping for... title belongs to brand new. thanks to a&a for the hand-holding and editing.

Harry knew the minute he woke up that something was wrong, that something was _off._ He knew when he reached over to turn off his alarm, rolling over onto his stomach, and he winced. “What the—“ he grumbled, reaching over and flipping on the little lamp by his bed, glancing down at his bare chest where two breasts had suddenly appeared, and he screamed. 

Niall groaned when he heard the scream, pulling his pillow over his head. “Shut up, Harry.”

“Ni—Niall—What did you do?” he managed to stutter out, eyes still fixated on his breasts. He was scared to move the blanket, scared to look even lower, but something just was _not_ right. 

“M’gonna throw something at you if you don’t shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “You’re the worst roommate ever.”

“Me?!” Harry shrieked, looking over across the small room where Niall was curled up on his bed, hiding under the blankets. “What did you do to me?” he asked, shoving the blanket down, thankful he was still covered in the pants he wore to bed the night before, and he stood up, reaching for a shirt. He picked up a vest from the floor—probably Niall’s, he didn’t even _care_ at that point—and pulled it on, frowning when he saw the way his nipples were pressing against the fabric. And it wasn’t—it wasn’t that strange, really, Harry had always had rather…reactive nipples (two sets, actually, that he was oddly proud of), and he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes landing back on Niall who was still burrowed beneath his blanket. “Niall!”

“For God’s sake, Harry, shut up!” Niall yelled, throwing a pillow across the room before sitting up, glaring at Harry.

“Niall, what did you do to me?” Harry repeated, quieter, slower than normal, and he looked up at Niall from under his eyelashes.

Niall froze, reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, blinking rapidly as he stared at Harry. “What’s that?”

“This?” he asked, gesturing towards his chest. “Oh, you know, just _breasts!_ ” he snapped, picking up the pillow and throwing it back at Niall. “What did you do to me?!”

“Why would you think I did anything? I didn’t make you grow tits!” Niall told him, running a hand over his hair. “Do you have a—a—“ he stuttered, pointing down towards Harry’s waist, eyebrows high on his forehead. 

“Niall!” Harry gasped, picking up the blanket from his bed and holding it in front of him like a shield. “Turn me back!”

Niall just stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You think _I_ did this?” he asked incredulously. 

“Who else would do this to me?! You hate me!”

“Yeah, but m’not bloody magic,” Niall snapped, throwing his blankets off and climbing out of bed. “You’re in my vest.”

“It was the first shirt I found,” he told him defensively, arms still crossed against his chest. “Do I look…more feminine?”

Niall rolled his eyes, pulling on a pair of joggers and a shirt he _hoped_ was clean. “You’re fuckin’ daft,” he grumbled, reaching for a pair of trainers.

“Niall—“

“God, living with you as a bird is gonna be worse than living with you as a bloke,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for a hoodie and pulling it on. “Hope m’not here when you get your fucking period.”

“That’s not funny,” Harry whispered, frowning as Niall stormed out of their dorm room, slamming the door shut behind him. He hesitated not even thirty seconds before he climbed back into his bed, reaching for his mobile and sending a text to Louis, waiting for his reply. When Louis texted back that he’d be there in ten minutes, Harry was able to breathe a sigh of relief and lay back against the bed, trying to even out his breathing; he had absolutely no idea what was going on, and he didn’t—he didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know what to _do,_ and he was ninety-percent positive that it was Niall’s fault. 

Generally, whenever something went wrong in Harry’s life, it was Niall’s fault (or, well, that’s who he blamed anyway). He could’ve made a list of all the ways things tended to go wrong when Niall was around, but Harry considered himself to be a better person. And, okay, alright, Niall himself wasn’t _bad,_ but he was loud and messy and, since he was in the room first at the beginning of the year, beating Harry there by ten minutes, he was able to pick the side of the room that Harry _wanted._

So, like—there was a little bad blood, just a little, nothing major, but. Harry definitely didn’t consider the two of them _friends._ Even if Niall was sort of everywhere, becoming mates with Louis and Zayn, bringing his own mate, Liam, along—the five of them sort of had become a weird sort of circle of friendship, one that Harry tried to get out of many times because Niall could just be so _annoying._ Harry didn’t believe how someone could be so smiling and positive all the time, and then so quiet and standoffish when they were alone in their dorm room. 

It was just— Harry had a bit of a different image in mind when he pictured roommates and uni; he didn’t really picture kind of hating his roommate, his…annoyingly happy and sort-of cute in a weird and annoying sort of way roommate. 

Not that—Not that Harry found him _attractive,_ but—whatever. 

It felt like it took Louis ages to get there, time that Harry did not want to _waste_ because he had classes and things to do and waking up to growing breasts and God knows what _else_ was not how Harry envisioned spending his day. Harry stared up at the ceiling while essentially counting the seconds, and it was that anxiety that led to Harry reaching for the hem of his pants, sucking in a deep breath as he pulled at the elastic. His eyes widened as his eyes traced over the smooth skin, a distinct _lack_ of something familiar that had tears pricking at his eyelids the second Louis stormed through the door. “I’m a _girl._ ”

Louis froze, kicking the door shut behind him, blue eyes wide. “Why do you have tits?”

“Because I’m a _girl!_ ” Harry yelled, sitting up in the bed, breathing heavy, on the verge of some sort of panic attack.

“You have tits,” Louis repeated, an awed tone to his voice that only made Harry feel more frantic.

“I woke up a girl.”

“How?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking _know,_ Louis!” he snapped. “It’s Niall’s fault!”

Louis scoffed. “Niall? Little leprechaun Niall? Please,” he told him with a roll of his eyes.

“Well who else could it be?” Harry asked. 

“Why would Niall turn you into a girl?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“And _how_ would he turn you into a girl?”

Harry pouted. “I don’t know.”

“Ergo,” Louis started with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “not Niall.”

“Then how do— Who did— How do we fix it? I miss my dick already,” he said sadly.

At that, Louis pursed his lips. “So, like, you’re all girl?”

“Do I look more feminine? Like, you know, more like Gemma than—than Harry?” he asked. 

Louis tilted his head to the side, surveying Harry for a moment, and he shook his head. “Not really, mate,” he told him genuinely. “Like, a bit softer, maybe. But, you know, you kind of…always sort of looked a little feminine anyway,” he said with a shrug. 

Harry whined. “I have breasts, Louis. I don’t own a bra. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to go to class? How—“ he cut himself off with a loud gasp as he remembered what Niall said before bolting out of the room. “What if I get my period?!”

 

+

 

“So what you’re saying,” Zayn started, coughing into his fist as he passed off the joint to Niall, “is that Harry is now Harriet?”

Niall shrugged, plucking the joint from Zayn’s fingers. “No idea, mate, like, he’s got the girl parts and all,” he told him.

Zayn paused for a minute before he smiled. “His tits nice?”

Niall coughed, inhaling a bit too much smoke as he stared at Zayn as if he had lost his mind—and, shit, he probably _had._ “What?!”

“His tits,” Zayn repeated with a shrug as if it were a completely _normal_ conversation. “Her tits?”

“I—“ he trailed off for a moment, eyes squinting shut and he barely registered Zayn taking the smoke from him. “I mean, yeah, they were.”

“Did you touch them?”

“What? No!” Niall yelled, kicking at Zayn’s thigh before lying down in his bed, snuggling into the pillow. “Bastard woke me up, yellin’ and screamin’ and blamin’ me for it,” he muttered.

“Blamed you?”

“Yeah, kept, like, yelling that it was my fault, asked what I did. Like I’d turn Harry into a bird,” he scoffed. “I don’t even want to be around him as a bloke; I’m sure he’s eighty times worse as a bird.”

“S’not a fair stereotype, Niall.”

“You have three sisters; am I wrong?”

Zayn pursed his lips. “Me mum would have my head if I said somethin’ like that.”

“Well, me mam’s not here, so,” he said with a shrug, “m’not really bothered.”

“S’interesting, though,” Zayn started. 

Niall narrowed his eyes. “What is?”

“I mean, the sexual tension between the two of you was always absurd. Think it’s gonna be worse now that you don’t have the whole _he’s a bloke, I don’t fancy him_ mindset?” Zayn teased with a wide grin.

“I _don’t_ fancy Harry.”

“What about Harriet?”

Zayn barely missed the book that Niall threw at his head. 

 

+

 

Harry was standing in front of the full-length mirror by his desk when Niall came back from his classes, tossing his bag aside, and he barely paid attention. He tilted his head to one side, then the other, staring at his reflection. He didn’t look— He didn’t look, like, noticeably different; his face was the same, his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, everything was basically the same, apart from his…other changes, below the neck and…waist. 

“What are you doing?” Niall asked, plopping down on his bed and messing with his mobile.

“Can you please change me back?” Harry whispered, pulling at the collar of his vest and staring underneath it at his breasts. And, God, didn’t _that_ feel weird as hell to even _think._

“Don’t even know what you’re on about,” Niall told him, glancing up at him from the top of his mobile, and he couldn’t help but notice the way Harry’s nipples tented the soft, white fabric of his vest, couldn’t help but be a little distracted by it.

Harry sighed, walking back towards his bed and sitting down, glaring over at Niall. “Change me back,” he demanded.

“Harry—“

“Look, I know we aren’t mates or whatever,” Harry started, reaching for his pillow and holding it against his chest, “but I don’t see why you would turn me into a girl—“

“Because I didn’t,” Niall interrupted.

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Well, it isn’t like there’s any other excuse.”

“How would I have even done this?” Niall asked, setting his phone aside and staring Harry down. 

“Magic?” Harry offered, face scrunched up because he knew, _knew_ how ridiculous it sounded but—well, there really _wasn’t_ any other excuse.

“Magic,” Niall deadpanned. 

“Yes, Niall, _magic,_ ” Harry said with an exasperated sigh, forcing himself to not throw his hands up in the hair and throw a tantrum of sorts. “I demand that you change me back.”

Niall laughed, shaking his head. “You’re daft, Harry. I didn’t do this to you.”

“Then who _did_? You’re— I mean, it makes sense that it was you,” Harry pointed out.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t like me.”

“Let’s look at it this way for a second, Harry,” Niall said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the top of his thighs. “Let’s say I don’t like you—“

“You don’t.”

“Right, and let’s say that I have some sort of magical power to turn men into women which, by the way, you’re not technically all woman, yeah? Like, you look exactly the same and, sure, you can sometimes look a little feminine, it’s clear that you’re still, like, a boy, y’know, in the face,” Niall pointed out.

“Rude.”

“So if I don’t like you, and I have these magical powers as you claim, wouldn’t I turn you into an ugly girl? Or, like, a rat?” Niall offered, rolling his eyes. “You’re daft.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Harry asked. 

Niall groaned. “Jesus, _no,_ I didn’t say that. Christ, Haz,” he muttered. “M’leaving.”

“You just got back.”

“You want me to stay?” Niall snapped. 

Harry looked down at his lap and shrugged. “Thought we might, like, talk.”

“I have class.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, _you_ do.”

“I’m obviously not going,” Harry grumbled, pointing down towards his chest. “I’ve no way of hiding these. I don’t know how girls do it. Like, I’ve always appreciated breasts, yeah? But, like, having them? It’s rough.” Niall laughed and Harry felt something twist in his stomach as he watched his roommate gather his stuff and walk towards the door, turning to say goodbye, only he didn’t say anything; his eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, narrowed and intense, making Harry shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze, before leaving without a word. 

 

+

 

“Niall, like, won’t even look at me, Lou,” Harry pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What else is new?” Louis drawled out, trying to study, but he was getting distracted by Harry’s constant talking. 

Harry sighed. “I _know,_ but like, it’s different? Before it was, like, we argued a lot because he’s messy and I snore and all of this stupid shit. And now, like… Are you even paying attention?” he snapped when he noticed Louis staring at his chest.

“Yeah, I am, just…” Louis trailed off, reaching out to poke at Harry’s chest, frowning when Harry slapped is hand away. “What?!”

“You can’t just reach out and touch a bird’s chest!” Harry exclaimed. “What would El say?”

“Sorry, just… Your tits are a lot nicer than hers,” Louis muttered. “Actually, don’t tell her I said that.”

Harry frowned. “I won’t,” he promised, but he couldn’t help but feel a _little_ bit of pride at that—he might not have wanted this to happen but it was nice to know he was already, like, good at it. 

“Alright, it’s clear I’m not going to get any studying done, so let’s talk—“

“We’ve _been_ talking.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “No, like… What’s it like? Having a….y’know.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “I can’t believe you can’t even, like, say it,” he mumbled. “But, like, it’s…different? Makes wearing my skinny jeans easier. And, like, I’ve been wearing a jumper so no one in class notices. It’s been, like, almost a week, and I’m going insane.”

Louis nodded slowly as Harry explained himself, only half-paying attention, because his mind was something else. “Have you masturbated yet?”

“Louis!” Harry snapped, cheeks flushing even though, fuck, it wasn’t even embarrassing at _all,_ but he couldn’t help it. “You can’t just ask someone that! It’s not, like, being a boy where you can just wank all willy-nilly, alright? God, it’s no wonder Eleanor—“

“Hey, hey, alright,” Louis interrupted, “no hits below the belt, yeah? It was just a question.”

Harry huffed, crossing his arms over his chest again. “A lady doesn’t answer.”

“A lady?” Louis snorted. “C’mon, Haz, you’re still...part man, I assume.”

With a pout, Harry reached over and slapped Louis’ shoulder. “No, I haven’t, if you _must_ know.”

“Why not?! What’s the point of having one if you’re not gonna, like, explore and enjoy?” he asked.

Harry sighed. “It’s _different,_ ” he insisted. “Like—not like wanking. It’s not like, y’know, seeing anything vaguely sexual gets you goin, yeah? It’s a process. It’s—“

“Oh, God,” Louis groaned, rolling his eyes. “Enough all ready. I already have a girlfriend; I don’t need you actin’ like one, too.”

Harry frowned. “You’re mean. Eleanor can do better.”

“Don’t I know it,” Louis laughed with a grin and a self-deprecating shake of his head. “M’one lucky bastard, though.”

Harry nodded in agreement because he had never heard anything so true come out of Louis’ mouth.

“But back to the topic of Niall,” Louis said with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about Niall anymore,” he grumbled. “He doesn’t like me, and I don’t like him.”

“Next time, try to be a little bit more convincing with that argument, Haz,” Louis drawled out, unimpressed. “I can only imagine what the sexual tension is like now.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “ _Now_? There’s never been sexual tension between the two of us, Lou.”

“That’s a fucking lie, and you know it,” he said with a snort. “Just like Niall not liking you—“

“He _doesn’t_ —“ Harry insisted.

“Right,” Louis said, brushing him off. “The lad is into you. Niall is literally the nicest and happiest person on the planet. Like, if there was a competition? He would win. The whole not liking you act? It’s to repress his feelings over being attracted to you, obviously.”

“Obviously?”

“That means it’s _obvious,_ and you’re clearly blind,” Louis pointed out. 

Harry scoffed. “You’re an idiot.”

Louis pursed his lips and shrugged. “Don’t believe me? Take these babies for a test drive,” he suggested, reaching out and flicking at the side of Harry’s breast. “Trust me, he won’t be able to look away.”

 

+

 

Harry didn’t mean to follow Louis’ advice, not really, but it only made sense the more he thank about it which, well, was actually quite often. And it started off slow, because Harry had always been the type to dive headfirst into everything, but this? He knew it was different—delicate, even—so he didn’t want to fuck it up. 

So— He started off slow, just to test the boundaries, just to really get a feel for where Niall was at with the whole Harry-being-a-girl situation. It didn’t hurt that Harry had always tried to push Niall’s buttons, even a little, because Harry was a _nice_ guy, he was charming and lovable and never had any enemies, and then there was _Niall,_ who was always laughing and smiling at anyone but Harry, so. Harry liked to push his buttons a little, and he was positive that Niall did the same thing to him, and that’s probably why they weren’t great roommates—whatever. 

It started off with vests and his pants, waiting until he could get Eleanor over so he could figure out the whole knickers situation and the like, and it wasn’t like refusing to put on jeans was out of the ordinary for Harry anyway, so. Harry didn’t miss the little flicker in Niall’s eyes when he would come home from class to see Harry lounging on his bed, legs bare, the stretched out neck of one of Niall’s vests hanging dangerously close to his shoulder. Harry didn’t miss the not-so-subtle way Niall’s eyes would follow the line of his legs, stopping just above the thigh, head tilting to the side like he was wondering, wondering the same thing Harry had been wondering when he woke up with breasts, wondering if there was any other surprise in store.

And it sort of escalated from there, little by little, Harry not trying to cover himself while he changed before heading into class, his necklaces dangling between his breasts, his button-up shirts barely concealing the fact that he wasn’t wearing a bra, because he still didn’t own one and definitely wasn’t going to buy one since he firmly, firmly believed that his condition wasn’t going to last forever. He noticed the way Niall’s eyes lingered when he would change after the shower, kicking the towel aside as he pulled on a pair of the knickers Eleanor _finally_ brought over, something simple and cute, little boyshorts with bows by the hips. He couldn’t exactly fit them over his arse—something Harry was definitely okay with since he never exactly had much of a bum before the little surprise two weeks before and—

Wow, had it _really_ been two weeks of hiding his breasts and trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was going on? Harry couldn’t believe it, not on one hand, because he had sort of gotten used to the way it felt, having the extra weight on his chest and less weight between his legs. He had sort of gotten used to the way Niall would be talking about something and trail off when Harry would tug his shirt off and start changing. He had sort of gotten used to the way Niall stopped complaining about Harry wearing his vests and actually started handing them to Harry when he was getting dressed, no questions asked, like Niall _wanted_ to see Harry in his clothes. 

(Which led to Harry to complaining to Louis between classes, asking what had changed and why Niall seemed to tolerate him just _a little_ bit more since the whole inconvenient switch-a-roo thing. Louis insisted that, no, Niall had always been a bit fond—sort of—of him before, that he was just hiding it, masking his obvious attraction behind the guise of apathy. Harry thought that was a load of bullshit, even if he wanted it to be true; he had always thought Niall was cute in an overly-hyper sort of way, and he knew—he _knew_ Niall wasn’t iffy on the whole homosexual thing since, well, Harry had brought guys over before, but. Anyway—it didn’t _matter,_ because Harry was determined to get to the bottom of it.)

 

+

 

Harry studied his reflection for a good five minutes before deciding what’s done was done, that he looked good enough to dip out to Louis’ party. He barely registered Niall’s glance in the mirror as he fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, keeping it unbuttoned halfway down his chest, then buttoning it back up. 

“Do I look okay?” Harry asked, turning over his shoulder to look at Niall. 

Niall shrugged, barely glancing up at him. “Yeah.”

“Niall,” he whined, “you didn’t even look.”

Niall made a showy effort of looking up at Harry, giving him a once over, before shrugging again. “Yeah, you look okay.”

Harry pouted, looking down at his chest and unbuttoning another button. “Is this too much?”

Niall swallowed and shrugged. “Depends on what you’re after.”

“I don’t know,” Harry mused, turning back to the mirror and studying his reflection again. He lifted up the collar of his shirt, peering beneath the fabric to stare at his breasts. “Maybe laid. I haven’t had sex in a while.”

With a snort, Niall shook his head. “Right.”

“I haven’t!” he insisted. “Not since, you know, before you turned me into a girl with girl parts and everything.”

“I didn’t turn you into a girl.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Right,” he drew out, “of course not. Anyway, I’m curious as to what it’s like, y’know?”

Niall shrugged.

“You never wondered?”

“What it would be like to have sex with a girl?” Niall asked with a grin, glancing up at him. “Been there, done that, mate. Quite a few times.”

Harry sighed. “ _No,_ Niall, you know what I mean.”

Niall laughed, shaking his head. “If you say so.”

“It’s _different,_ is all I’m saying,” Harry told him. “Maybe I’ll take these babies for a test drive,” he added, cupping his breasts in each hand and squeezing them a little bit.

“I—“ Niall cut himself off, studiously looking down at the textbook in his lap and doing everything he could to avoid looking at Harry. 

“Are you coming to Lou’s party?” Harry asked, turning back towards Niall and pulling on his boots, shoving his mobile and keys into his pocket.

“Nah, got a test in the morning,” Niall muttered.

Harry frowned. “Pity. It should be fun.”

“Yeah, seen you on the pull enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t think I need to see it with your tits all out,” he grumbled. 

Harry felt the corner of his lips quirk upward and he walked over towards Niall’s side of the room, where he was perched on his bed, and he leaned over him, reaching in to shut the textbook he was looking at. “Sure you don’t wanna go?”

Niall narrowed his eyes at Harry, but he knew he was about as menacing as a golden retriever. He slid his book out from Harry’s hand and nodded, eyes only glancing down at his chest for a _fraction_ of a second, and he nodded. “Yeah, m’sure. Have fun test driving those.”

Harry grinned. “I’ll text you if I’m bringing someone back,” he declared, straightening his back and sliding his hands across the front of his shirt, smoothing it out. 

“Don’t,” Niall groaned. “M’sick of you bringing lads back here, listening to their pathetic grunts for a whole four minutes.”

Harry burst out laughing, shoving Niall’s shoulder. “Shut up,” he shorted. “It’s usually a solid six minutes.”

“Five on a good day,” Niall corrected. “Or, well, night. And that’s if you’re lucky. It’s sad, mate. You deserve…” he trailed off.

“I…deserve?” Harry prompted, tilting his head to the side, just a little bit.

Niall shrugged. “Lost my train of thought.”

“Right,” Harry agreed amicably, nodding slowly. “Right. Um, well… I’ll be back in a bit?”

“Have fun,” he muttered, looking back down at his book.

Harry frowned, already missing the banter between them, something settling in the pit of his stomach because— Well, he _liked_ talking with Niall; he wasn’t that bad, even if he was sort of a horrible roommate, and Harry didn’t exactly _mind_ him. Rather, he liked their talks, when they actually occurred, and he definitely liked the way Niall’s eyes had been lingering on him for most of the night. That— That he _really_ liked.

 

+

 

Harry was drunk. Not, like, proper, falling onto his feet, retching into a bush on the walk home, contemplating-the-meaning-of-life drunk, but—drunk. Drunk enough to where he didn’t mind when Louis kept shoving awful drinks at him. Drunk enough to where he didn’t even get upset when he and Nick were getting a little handsy, Nick pulling away when he slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt, freezing when he felt his breasts, and pulling back with a laugh. 

_(“I told you, Nick!”_

_“I didn’t think you meant, like, fuck…real ones!”_

_“What did you think I meant?”_

_“I don’t know, Haz, but this? I can’t…do this. Text me when you get your real body back, yeah?”)_

Drunk enough to where he didn’t care who he was dancing with, as long as someone had hands on him, as long as he had a drink in his hand. Drunk enough to where he wasn’t bothered when he was waxing poetic to Louis about his conversation before with Niall and how maybe, _maybe_ Louis wasn’t _entirely_ full of shit and how maybe, _maybe_ something was there. Drunk enough to where he didn’t notice when he nearly fell down the stairs as he tried to leave the building, shouting about how he wanted to get back and see if Niall would make out with him and maybe not shove him away or be turned off by his breasts the way Nick was; because Niall had nice hands, rather lovely, and it wasn’t like Harry was _preoccupied_ by that realization, and he definitely didn’t spend any amount of time actively thinking about how Niall’s hands would feel on his chest—nope. 

Drunk enough to where he was clinging to the doorframe as he tried to unlock the door to his dorm. Drunk enough to where he wasn’t even annoyed when he saw Liam, Niall’s mate, passed out on Niall’s bed because Liam was nice, wouldn’t be loud when he woke up in the morning and made his way out of the dorm room; Harry always liked that about him. Drunk enough to where he didn’t think twice about stripping out of his clothes until he was just in his knickers, reaching for one of Niall’s vests and pulling it on, before climbing onto his bed. Drunk enough to where it barely registered that someone was already _there,_ using his pillow and wrapped up in his blankets, drooling.

“Blanket hog,” Harry grumbled, kicking at Niall’s leg before climbing over top of him until he was closest to the wall, pulling the blanket up and over his shoulders. 

“Little spoon,” Niall mumbled in his sleep, curling a little closer to Harry before passing out again.

Harry didn’t even bother to think of a response before he passed out.

 

+

 

Sure enough the next morning, Liam didn’t make a sound as he snuck out of the room. In fact, Harry wouldn’t have even known he was gone if he hadn’t woken up to the sound of Niall’s snores, lifting himself up on one arm to peer around the room, seeing Niall’s bed empty. He fell back onto the mattress with a groan, reaching a hand up to rub at his forehead before realizing that Niall was still curled around his back, one leg stuffed between Harry’s thigh and a hand low on his stomach, warm through the fabric of his vest. Harry didn’t think twice before snuggling back against Niall because, well, when Niall wasn’t frowning at him, it was actually sort of nice. 

Niall came to slowly, stretching, fingers flexing against Harry’s stomach, but he didn’t back away. “Why are you in my bed, Haz?” he asked, voice rough with sleep, accent a little thicker.

“You’re in mine,” Harry pointed out. “Liam was in yours when I got in this morning.”

“Oh,” Niall mumbled, burrowing his face into the back of Harry’s neck, blinking slowly. “How was your test drive?”

Harry pursed his lips, frowning. “There might’ve been a crash.”

“A crash?” he asked, fingers rubbing slowly across Harry’s stomach. 

“Head-on collision, more like,” Harry corrected, swallowing heavily, and he glanced down to look at Niall’s hand. 

“Yeah?” Niall prompted, pulling his hand away to push the blankets down past their hips, trailing his knuckles up Harry’s thigh before dipping under his vest to rest on his stomach again. “What a shame.”

“Yeah, you sound real upset about that,” Harry said with a laugh.

Niall snorted against the back of Harry’s neck, running his hand up Harry’s chest until his fingers were resting just under the swell of his breast. “Very. So upset,” he added sarcastically, sliding his palm up and over until he was cupping Harry’s breast, thumb brushing across his nipple until it hardened into a tight little bud. 

Harry gasped, hips starting a little, pushing back against Niall, and it was—it was different, the slow and steady build of arousal between his legs, nothing like waking up with a semi, and he whined. “I—“ he trailed off, clenching his legs together, because it was _weird,_ was the thing, _different,_ and he didn’t know how to ask Niall for more. 

Niall grinned, pressing his lips to the side of Harry’s neck, sucking at the skin as he let go of Harry’s breast, trailing his fingertips down his sternum, over his navel, and to rest at the soft skin above the soft fabric of his knickers. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out with a nod, because it hadn’t felt like _that_ when Nick was kissing on him the night before, a hand on his warm back, Harry hadn’t felt that sense of urgency, of desperation, not the way he did when Niall’s fingertips were dipping underneath the fabric of his knickers. “Ni—“

“Yeah?”

“What—“

“Wanna go for a test drive?” he asked.

Harry laughed loudly. “Is that how you chat up all the birds?”

“Just you,” Niall assured him with a grin, smoothing a hand over the inside of Harry’s thighs until he felt him relax, until he wasn’t trembling, and he traced his fingertips over the fabric of his knickers, brushing across where Harry was already a little wet, and he didn’t miss the gasp that left his lips. “Can I?”

“Fuck, _yeah,_ ” Harry panted, tilting his head back until he could capture Niall’s lips with his own. He felt Niall’s hands trail over the front of his knickers and he moaned at the sensation, something entirely foreign and new, and he gasped when he felt the pads of Niall’s fingers dip inside the knickers, pushing the fabric aside until he was sliding his fingers between the slick folds, pushing up inside of him. Harry whimpered, pulling away from the kiss, back arching, and Niall’s lips moved down to the side of Harry’s throat, and it was—the stretch was unfamiliar and too much, but not enough, and— “Niall, _fuck,_ ” he breathed out. “I—I don’t—I can’t—“

“Get these off,” Niall whispered against the soft, red skin of Harry’s neck, pulling his fingers away and reaching for the fabric of Harry’s knickers. He sat up and pulled them over Harry’s hips, down his thighs and long legs, tossing them aside. He kicked the blanket down as he climbed between Harry’s legs, pushing him onto his back and smoothing his hands over the inside of Harry’s thighs, before looking back up at him and catching his eye. “Yeah?”

Harry nodded eagerly, shifting until he was more comfortable, and he couldn’t help but blush under Niall’s heady gaze, for the first time in his life feeling shy as Niall just _stared_ at his cunt. He bit at his bottom lip as Niall’s hands rubbed over the inside of thighs, and it was barely seconds later when he felt Niall’s fingers slip back inside of him, stretching, the pad of his thumb brushing across— “Oh, _fuck,_ ” Harry panted, tossing his head back against the pillow as his hips arched up, wanting more. 

Niall grinned before leaning down and catching Harry’s lips with his own, kissing him eagerly before he felt Harry’s legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him down. He groaned as he faltered a little bit, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he rubbed against Harry. “Harry—“

“More,” Harry whined, fingers reaching for Niall’s hips and pushing the fabric of his pants down until he could get his fingers around Niall’s cock. 

Niall cursed as Harry pulled him into another kiss, feeling his fingers work over the head of his cock before releasing him. He slipped his fingers out of Harry, grabbing the back of his thigh and holding his legs open as he rubbed his cock against Harry’s cunt. 

Harry cried out as Niall rubbed against him, and he dug his nails into the skin of Niall’s back, arching his back. “Please, I—I—“ 

“Yeah,” Niall nodded, sitting back on his heels as he readjusted, rubbing the head of his cock against Harry’s clit, causing the younger boy to cry out again, thrashing against the mattress underneath him. “Fuck, gimme your hand, babe,” he instructed, reaching for Harry’s hand and wrapping it around his cock. “C’mon.”

Harry nodded, jerking him off quickly, squeezing and rubbing his thumb across the wet head, wanting Niall to feel as good as Niall was making _him_ feel. He whimpered when he felt Niall’s fingers slip back inside of him, thrusting and stretching in time with Harry’s jerks, moaning when he felt a third finger slip inside of him. “Niall—“

“Fuck, you’re so wet f’me, babe, fuck,” Niall whispered, brushing his thumb across Harry’s clit and feeling his thighs jerk. “Wanna get my mouth on you next, babe—“

“Niall—“

Niall nodded, rubbing his thumb faster across Harry’s clit, circling and pressing until he could feel Harry clenching around him, could feel him pushing his hips back and riding his fingers. “Come for me, babe, c’mon, wanna feel you come,” he urged, watching as Harry’s hand fell from his cock to reach for the sheets, fingers tangling in them as Niall rubbed at his clit, working at him until Harry cried out, back arching off of the mattress as he came, eyes squeezing shut as he felt Harry spasm around him. “Fuck,” Niall cursed, reaching for his cock and jerking himself off quickly, meeting Harry’s eyes before coming across the inside of his thighs with a quiet grunt, collapsing on top of Harry, still between his legs. 

Harry didn’t say anything for a few moments, tried to even out his breathing, and he settled for running his fingertips up and down Niall’s spine. “Hey, Ni?”

“Mmm?” Niall grunted, face still buried against Harry’s chest in between his breasts.

“I gotta clean up. M’kinda gross,” he said with a grin.

Niall smiled as he pulled back, meeting Harry’s eyes and leaning in for a kiss. “You’re welcome.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved Niall off of him, climbing out of bed and reaching for a pair of joggers, pulling them over his hips. “I didn’t say thank you.”

Niall rolled over onto his back, resting a hand behind his head, and he shrugged. “Still welcome.”

Harry felt himself flush a little as he shook his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he told him, running a hand through his hair as he walked to the door, shifting uncomfortably. He hesitated at the door, turning to face Niall with a bit of a frown. “I—“ he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” Niall prompted, sitting up on Harry’s bed, shoving his pants down his thighs and off the side of the bed. “What’s up?”

“If I wasn’t…” he sighed. “If I wasn’t, like…” he nodded down towards his chest with a comical raise of his eyebrows, “you know…would you still have…”

Niall bit his lip and stood up, crossing the room in a couple quick strides to pin Harry against the door, leaning up to press their lips together. “Think I would’ve eventually, yeah, with your bloody affinity for never wearing clothes,” he teased, pinching at Harry’s thigh.

Harry giggled, slapping at Niall’s hand. “Never seemed to bother you too much,” he whispered.

“Was never bothered by that,” Niall promised, cupping Harry’s jaw with his hand and pulling him in for another kiss. “Go wash up. I plan on getting you dirty again,” he told him with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Harry burst out laughing, pushing Niall away from him with a bright smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

+

 

Waking up in Niall’s arms two days in a row was nothing something Harry thought would ever happen. Hell, he didn’t even think he would wake up in his arms _once,_ but—that wasn’t the point. He stretched slowly, languidly, arching his back and pressing his bum against Niall’s hips, smiling when he heard Niall mutter something under his breath in his sleep, fingers tightening against Harry’s hip. 

He lay there for a few moments, feeling Niall breathe against the back of his neck, before he tried to roll over onto his stomach to reach his mobile, and he froze. He paused, lifting up the edge of the blanket, his eyes widening as they landed on a familiar sight—his prick, half-hard and greeting the morning like he was twelve again, and he laughed. 

“Niall!” he shouted, rolling over in Niall’s arms and climbing on top of him, straddling his hips and shaking at his shoulders. “Wake up! I’m a boy again!”

Niall groaned as he reached up and rubbed at his eyes, slowly blinking one of them open. “Hmm?”

“I’m back to normal!” Harry declared, lifting up the hem of Niall’s vest to point at his cock. “Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight?”

Niall snorted. “Yeah, the inside of my eyelids.”

Harry pouted. “Niall—I mean, do you…like…is this okay?” he asked.

“Shut up, Haz,” Niall muttered, patting at Harry’s thigh fondly until the boy climbed off of him, settling down next to him again. “M’good, yeah? Like you with or without your prick. Now go to bed.”

“But Niall—“ Harry protested weakly, his pout fading into a smile when Niall pulled him back into his arms, nuzzling at his neck.

“Go to sleep. I’ll blow you when I wake up.”

Harry grinned. “Promise?”

“Promise. Now shut up.”


End file.
